


Stripped Like a Wire. Exposed Like a Nerve

by Ailovlovyuu



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha Derek Hale, Alpha Mate Stiles Stilinski, Alternate Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awesome Sheriff Stilinski, Beta Stiles Stilinski, But.... - Freeform, Dead Peter Hale, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek’s a good Alpha, Everyone Needs A Hug, Everyone deserves better, Falling In Love, Family Feels, Feels, First Love, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Forgiveness, Full Shift Werewolves, Good Alpha Derek Hale, Grief, Human Scott McCall, Hurt/Comfort, I Made Myself Cry, Love, M/M, Mating, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Mating Rituals, Mutual Pining, Pack Dynamics, Packmom! Stiles, Pain, Parent Peter Hale, Peter Hale Deserves Nice Things, Post Hale Fire, Post-Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Protective Sheriff Stilinski, Rape/Non-con Elements, Redemption, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf) is a Ray of Sunshine, Scott is a Good Friend, Sexual Violence, Sheriff Stilinski is a Good Parent, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Slow Burn, That's right, Werewolf Culture, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, beta issac, everyone gets redemption, heal, i know it’s noah, oh and everone's getting one!!, past parent peter, sheriff stilinski is everyone's dad, trama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-04-08 07:09:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14100069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailovlovyuu/pseuds/Ailovlovyuu
Summary: In a world where Weres are known and co-exist with humans, Stiles wanders into the woods not expecting an invading pack on Hale territory.  Now Derek, Stiles and Sherif Stilinski have to pick up the pieces of that night and move forward into the new life presented before them.AkaThe one where the power of love heals and there’s a lot of cool were-society world building.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, I very impromptu posted the first two chapters and plan to edit them soon. To all those brave souls that truck through all the ROUGH grammatical errors and assorted fuck ups. Thank you.

Stiles felt something slip out from between his legs, something hot and awful. 

He was not fast enough. It out ran him. He was not strong enough. He had fought til the alpha dislocated his arms. He said no. He begged. He screamed. He said anything he could think of to make time stop. He should’ve been at home in its warmth. Instead of laying broken and bloody in the woods, a thing of nightmares plunging inside him. 

The alpha was already done by the time Derek arrived. Coverend in the blood of the invader’s betas, he tackled the burley Were from atop Stiles. Stiles layed on the dank forest floor, immobile. It was as if he couldn’t feel October’s chill on his exposed body, as if catatonic. Listless, he watched Derek tear the intruder apart. The other alpha was taken so fast he didn’t have time to shift. He looked like a toddler being ripped apart by a behemoth. At least the alpha didn’t shift inside him. There’s that right? 

When Derek finished he loomed over the mess he’d made. Huffing and puffing he dared the gore to flinch. Then he turned his red eyes towards Stiles. Softening from his bipedal aggressive form. His body slipped onto four legs, to form a massive black wolf. His eyes eased into a darker shade, no longer glowing. The obsidian wolf padded towards Stiles. He took it slow, afraid of what he would see. If only he could’ve fought forever and never face the sight of crimson on delicate porcelain. He could hear a heartbeat and ragged breathing so this wasn’t corpse. Regardless of its stillness and bluing ivory in the cold, there was still a flush to the body. Patches deepened and seeped. It wasn’t a corpse. Stiles eyes stared out into the woods, towards the remnants of his attacker. This was not a corpse. Thoughts of finding half of his sister laying, blue from the cold, starting into the void. This was not a corpse. Then the wind shifted and he smelled the true horror of the attack. He knew and didn’t at the same time, but when the scent of blood and seed joined them in the forest his stomach turned sour. His eyes began to glow. 

———————

How could this happen! In his fucking territory. How long had they been here? Why did it take him so long to kill those betas? It took too long to find this—oh god he’s just a boy! 

The wolf forced his eyes to drift up the lithe body before him. Puncture wounds accompanied bruises on his thighs... and his hips... his shoulders... neck... and the thick ribbons of a darkening crimson accross his mouth from where the alpha had seized. Lips that began to tremble. The onyx wolf dropped his massive head beside the broken boy. He did the only thing he knew how to do. He pressed his nose to the boy’s temple and began to drain his pain. The youth leaned into the touch and began to hyperventilate and gasp. A whine erupted from behind his clenched teeth. The horror of that noise. Derek knew it well, they were the noises Laura made when the police made her identify the bodies of their family. One by one. Even through the door Derek had heard it from two corridors away. 

The boy’s skin was like ice. Derek placed his tail over the boy in an attempt to shield him from the indifferent chill. 

“I...” the voice ragged and raw and miserable. It was like he was choking on glass. “I-I wanna g-” It was choppy attempting to break through the shallow breaths. Tears began to fall. “I ‘anna g’ ‘ome. I-I-I w-w-w ggg ooooh” he gasped “ hoOMMME!!!” With that the wailing began in earnest. 

Derek nodded, the boy was so young. So tragic. He understood the draw. He could imaging how to take from something so innocent could be so sweet. Like eating the flesh of a suckling lamb. So close to the full moon chasing down stiles must’ve felt like taking down a rabbit.

He wanted to shift to his human form, to not frighten the youth more than he had to but he couldn’t. He couldn’t even revert back to his beta form, his wolf still too on edge. He settled on shifting to his bipedal form. He needed hands to reset the boy’s joints. Slowly, he gestured for the boy to sit upright. To his surprise, Stiles wasn’t afraid of the alphas new form. He didn’t know that for stiles it was just foreign enough to help him convince himself that this was all just a dream. The boy strained to sit upright and, as delicately as this form could manage, the alpha supported him. They communicated with gestures. The boy seemed to understand that the next step was to pop his shoulders back into place. The boy nodded and the Werewolf was quick. Though by the second one the boy had passed out. He had been through so much. Derek wrapped him in his arms, held the frozen frail teen close and delivered him out of the woods and into his home. When the boy woke he would honor his request and bring him home. It was the least he could do. 

Stiles was blessed with a dreamless sleep. He woke in a warm place, like a swaddled babe. For a glorious moment, he knew only of comfort but then the pillow didn’t smell right. He blinked his weirey eyes into sight and saw an unfamiliar pattern on an unfamiliar couch. He recoiled which triggered the pain. It was exponential from there, with the pain came the memories. Flashes of hands and leaves on his back and fire inside. 

Derek had herd his heartbeat quicken the moment of the shift. He’d seen the news broken to all sorts of reactions. He thought of the only beta his sister ever took. The car accident victim in New York that thought the bite a curse. Then of his cousin getting gifted the bite by his mother when he was eight. The smell of her happiness and sound of her laughter. How would this boy feel? Derek knew nothing of leaving humanity behind. He could only compare it to inheriting his alpha status from the vengeance killing of his uncle. The way the power flowed into with the promise of being something apart. He felt the pang of remembering that he was the last Hale. That his pack would end after centuries of ruling these forests with the sweet release of his death. 

Shaking the thoughts away he shifted his attention back to the newly turned Were on his couch. He bent down to eye level with stiles,

“Hey”, stiles jumped, “shall we take you home?” The teen began to shake. Eyes watery and with a miserable whine, he nodded his head. 

As the Camaro turned into stiles’ street, recognition descended upon Derek. Scenting the car, underneath all the horrors, he smelled the sherif of Beacon Hills. He sighed as lightly as he could manage and resigned himself to the chaos that was sure to ensue. This was the law keeper’s son. He was now alpha of the territory surrounding the town. It’s been his job to renew the treaties every year since his ascension. Following traditions just as his family had done for generations. He wasn’t a bad man. He didn’t deserve this. 

When they pulled to a stop, to Dereks surprise the boy’s hand just rested on the handle. Stiles began to regret not accepting the clothes that were offered to him. At the time the thought of anything that didn’t smell like home repulsed him. Now he regretted being clothed only in scraps. His tee more ribbons than shirt and jeans that couldn’t stay up without holding them. It was then he was propelled back. Again inundated without his consent. The memory of clawing his way up the muddy river bank when the interloper snagged him by the belt. His shirt already a fraction from his first escape all the protection he had were those pants. It ripped the belt right through bringing with it each denim loop. Remembering the scurrying of the few short yards before being over took again. It was then he realized what the wolf had wanted. Before, he had just assumed that he’d be mauled and murdered. The Were chuckled when it overtook him. Stiles was hefted to all fours and pressed hard against the massive erect cock. 

Stiles eyes darted open. He was hyperventilating again. All modesty forgotten. He needed to be home like he needed air. One hand on his jeans he staggered across his yard. The mud squished between his toes through his sock. He lost one of his shoes at some point in the night. The door swung open before he got halfway through the grass. 

The sheriff, a single parent playing at disciplinarian, came out with arms crossed. Stiles eyes wandered up. He wanted to be strong. He-he... began to tremble. 

In a broken miserable voice he whined, “Daaad”, and doubled over. 

Stiles’ appearance started to register with his father. His father knitted his brows together. The finger bruises over his lips and around his neck. He lost his air, a punch to the gut. He knew these marks. 

“Oh god,” he rasped, It was his turn to tear up. He had failed. He ran down the porch to his child. His one and only person on this whole planet. He took Stiles into his arms and Stiles accepted him. Clung to his father like it was the only thing keeping him from falling off the face of planet. As if in this night of betrayal, gravity too would forsaken him. He shook and screeched through clenched teeth.

“No, no....” His hands grasped desperately, to his son’s skin, to what shards of cloth remained. “...my baby...”The sheriff hands moved over him trying to mend his broken little boy as if they thought him a tailor. 

“Dad! It hurts. It hurts!” Stiles’ throat was raw and ragged, faltering from fear and overuse. 

From screaming, the thought crawled from the sheriffs nightmares. 

“I’ve got you.” He whimpered. 

Stiles wail cut through the night. Lights began to flicker to life accross neighborhood. 

“It’s okay. You’re safe now. I’ve got you. Oh god. My baby,” he shushed his son like he did when he was an infant. Like he did after his wife died, during Stiles’ panic attacks. 

the sherif gently coxed up his son’s battered face. Cupping the battered face he pleaded, “who?” Stiles shook his head. Both strurn and gentle, his father demanded, “Who?”. Stiles placed his hands on hid fathers chest, gripping and pushing firm. 

“H-he’s gone.” He shook his head. 

Misunderstanding his father Implored for more. “Where?”

“No, dad,”he could see his fathers gears turning, switching to his cop brain, “He’s dead.” Not knowing how to feel his father pulled his head back and made a face. Shock, disappointment. He searches his son’s eyes for lies. When he saw none he shifted his gaze as if asking how. “A-alpha Hale, he,” his eyes danced, peering a thousand miles away. Anxiety rose in him, his father shushed him and tucked him close to his chest. It was then the sherif saw Derek standing in the road. He gave a deep nod, bowing his thanks with his head. 

“Tomorrow “, he whispered. Derek got back into the Camero and drove off. His son’s shirt did a poor job of covering his flesh. The sherif had seen the bites on his son’s chest, around raw bruised nipples. He’d be seeing a lot of the alpha from now on. 

——


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got impatient, posted non-beta’d, forgive me. I’ll be better. Please comment and give me the strength to move forward!!

Stiles woke slowly, the late afternoon sun streaming from between the shutters. It took his sleep-addled mind a moment to remember why he was in his parents bed... that’s right, Stiles woke screaming. Then dad lifted and carried him to the master bedroom where he could just roll over and hold him. 

Stiles closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The room had the slight undertones of his mother. Her hair, her sweat. His face twisted in want. He tried to close that part of him off, as if it a faucet and his cup was about to run over. But, he was too tired and hurt to fight the flow. It pulled him under, ghosting his mother’s fingers across his scalp. If she was here, would she be 

There were other, less savory scents. The salty iron of blood and tears. He needed a shower. His body ached, but not as much as it should. He shuddered with the thought. His body acting as if nothing happened. His body sore like it is after lacrosse, not like it had been put. When he got to the bathroom he’d look himself over. He turned on the shower and began to undress. The bruises on his face and neck were gone, while those on his body yellowed. He prodded them gingerly. They were barely even tender. As steam from the shower began to billow into the small room, Stiles dropped his head. He brought a hand to his chest. The bite hadn’t even left a mark and yet... Stiles looked up and into his own glowing eyes. Their amber light peered through the growing fog. Exhausted, he slunk into the shower and curled up on its floor. Scorching his skin he begged the water to wash away his sins. That monster took his humanity and his... He clenched his teeth and bellowed as softly as he could manage. 

John’s brow knit in worry as he pressed his hand to the door. He willed the old oak panels to become a channel, to funnel tenderness and love straight into his son’s veins. His wife would’ve known what to do. The sherif pressed an exhausted head against the door. 

Derek stood outside, finger hovering over the bell. He smelled their pain and want. He heard Stiles’ cry. This wasn’t part of the plan. He was never going to take on any betas. Still, here he was, another cruel joke of fate. His mother would’ve known what to do. Laura would’ve known. There was enough grief in this house that Derek’s, quiet as a mouse, didn’t even cause a stir. He pressed the bell.

The sound shocked both Stilinskis. Stiles jolted to his feet. Alpha Hale. 

The Sherif took to the stairs. He knew the wolf would come, but even this late in the day felt too early. {The door swung open to the wolf’s eyes.} <\- (this sentence seems unclear to me) Hard eyes, but today they were softer than he’d seen them since the fire. John remembered meeting Derek’s gaze at his wife’s funeral, a child standing by his mother’s side. There was compassion in his eyes today as there had been that day. 

“Alpha Hale”, the sheriff said with a nod. He stepped to the side, held the door as the younger man of great stature glided inside. The shower shut off upstairs. Both men glanced up before John suggested they talk in the kitchen. His son would have to be a part of these interactions moving forward but in this moment he was still the boy’s father, Werewolf or not. 

Stiles finished his shower quick as he could, giving himself a good scrub to remove residual stench from the night before. Curiosity pulled him right out of any other thoughts. The local Alpha was here!Speaking to his dad! About him! A newly turned Werewolf! There was no way he was missing this. 

He barely dried off before tugging on a grey tee and jeans. He quietly skulked down the hall to the top of the stairs. They were in the kitchen. From this distance he would typically have to strain to hear but now it was easy to hone in on his fathers voice. 

“He’s only in high school and I’d like it to stay that way.” His father’s familiar baritone resonated through his being. He was using his official voice. His peacekeeper to alpha voice. 

“It won’t be easy for him. It’s not like our kind is readily accepted into human society.” Derek’s voice was cutting; something about it resonated strength. 

Our kind 

The sheriff wanted to deny it but neither of these men were fools. He sat with that knowledge before replying, “True, but it’s worth a try. All things considered, I want him to have as normal a life as possible... He’s just a kid.” 

My kid

The sentiment hung heavy in the air. Stiles leaned forward and peered around the upper railing. He saw his father at the table across from Alpha Hale. Scott and he had snuck into Derek’s first Boundary Ceremony, curious to see the new alpha, last of the ancient Hale Pack. Stiles had never seen him outside of formal dress. He looked almost normal sitting at his kitchen table in a black tee and warn leather jacket. His muscles straining the cotton shirt taut. His piercing green eyes... staring... at Stiles. Oh fuck. 

Startled, Stiles flailed, tripped over his own feet, and fell down the flight of stairs. The new wolf was sprawled across the floor. Grimacing, he looked up, more embarrassed than hurt. He forced out some nervous chuckles and sat up. His father sighed, shaking his head and clutching at the bridge of his nose. Stiles could see the smirk hidden behind his palm. His eyes drifted to Derek’s spot. Empty?

Is he okay?? Is he hurt? 

Derek was at Stiles’ side , instantaneously instinct moving faster than thought. Derek may have been the resident alpha for the past two and half years but now with this little wolf in his territory... It awoke something singular in the alpha. He sniffed and sniffed some more. Like soap and fresh air. Cotton. He reached out a hand. Stiles eyes opened wide. 

“Come.” Derek’s voice was a gravel driveway to a desolate house. Derek’s fascination sent a tang into the air. Stiles could almost taste it. Stiles didn’t yet know how to use his nose. He couldn’t identify it. Then his eyes drifted to Derek’s hand...a hand...a hand around his neck...around his mouth..a hand...touching his whole body...making him sick. 

Absorbed in this curious new feeling, Derek didn’t notice that he was reaching to the boy. Not until he (heard) the uptick in the boy’s pulse. Smelled his fear. Startling himself, he stood and cleared his throat. 

“I mean... ah, are you- um...)” (He) was flustered. When was the last time Derek Hale was flustered? Everything was so much easier last night. Now in the light of day they’re just strangers. “Here.” He shoved his reservations to the side and his hand once more towards the boy. 

Stiles struggled to find his way back. This wasn’t the same. He was panting. He looked at the hand. Illuminated by sunlight not engulfed in darkness. No claws glinting and dripping in the moonlight, just blunt nails. See, it’s fine. He’s fine. 

“I-I’m good,” Stiles said, lifting himself up to his feet. Derek nodded, backing off. Stiles cautioned a glance. His amber eyes caught the sun, round like a does. Almost the same color of a shifted beta. The alpha was staring. 

“Oh! Um, thanks... for(,) uh... ya know...last night...” His voice was slowly petering off under the unshakable gaze. By the time he finished it was just a whisper, “...Alpha Hale”. Derek had never heard anything more beautiful. He wanted to walk over and scent the boy right then and there. Make the boy smell like pack. Keep him close. Keep him safe. He was speechless. 

Come. Be mine. Closer. 

What could he say that hadn’t been said last night? Did the other wer taint those words? Derek stayed silent and turned towards the peacekeeper. John stared at his son, lost in his little boy’s remarkable face. The bruises had healed but his heart felt like glass. He had crossed the room during the wolves’ interaction. 

“Hey,” John breathed. 

Stiles turned to him. “Dad,” and it was like the first time. 

That’s right. I’m dad. I’m here. You’re safe. 

“You’re looking good. Healing.” The sheriff shot him a pained smile, “Guess the bite took”. It made Stiles flinch. Derek could smell his scent turn sour. 

“I’m so s-“

“Don’t.” 

“Dad,” he shook his head, “ I shouldn’t’ve been there. I should’ve listened,” his eyes were far, “I- I’m sor-“ 

“No!” 

Stiles jumped. His attention pulled back to the room. “You did nothing wrong. Do you hear me?” His father held his eyes. Inside reaching out but outwardly afraid to touch his son, his baby boy. Afraid to be rejected. Feeling like he was losing him already and afraid to give one more inch to the change. 

Stiles let out a high whine. Stepping towards his father he pressed his head to the peacekeeper’s shoulder. Derek knew the sound was too quiet and high for human ears. The boy took to the wolf quickly. Good. 

“Hey”, John cooed. His son’s touch had soothed him. Let’s put some food in that belly,” he said, ruffling his child’s hair. 

Stiles wasn’t hungry but knew better than to take this from his father. He was a doer. He needed something concrete. Before wandering off to his task, he looked to Derek over Stile’s shoulder. They made eye contact and he motioned to the table. With delicate hands he turned his son the same way. To Stiles, he was just getting them settled. Derek, on the other hand, read the message loud and clear. The eye contact. The sharp smell of aggression jolting through the thick scent of hurt. The tight lips. It was a challenge. 

This is MY son. Watch yourself. 

Had he been a wolf then Derek would’ve been obligated to crush him for such impetuousness. But to maim the town’s peacekeeper would be an act of war. An egregious crime for what was only the slight of a broken human. A promise of a father to protect his son. His father did something similar when he was just a boy. Derek tamed the memory before it grew teeth. 

Derek kept his eyes stern and turned to the table. He took the seat opposite of Stiles, facing the door. They had much to talk about. As a wolf in Beacon Hills, he is Derek’s responsibility. He did not sire Stiles. Stiles has to accept him and submit before becoming pack or face exile. Derek could not allow an omega within his territory. He watched the young wolf. Inhaled, smelled him. He smelled like laundry hanging on a hot summer day. 

Derek sighed. “It’s Stiles, right?” His crossed arms unfolded to rest on the kitchen table. Stiles sat up a little straighter and nodded. Derek continued, “Stiles, how much do you know about what goes on with a (newly bitten/freshly turned) wolf?”

“Like, heightened senses, healing... transformation?” Stiles attempted. 

“How about politically?” Derek prompted. His voice deep, gentle. 

“Po-” Stiles’ eyes blew wide, flashing gold. “No,” he whispered, breathy. He’d be registered with the government. He’d have to perform the Ascension rite, before the whole town! Everyone would know... they’d see right through him. They’d ask how it happened. They’d know. They’d see it in his eyes. They-

“They don’t have to.” Derek’s eyes were on him. They never wavered. Stiles must’ve said something out loud. How else would Derek know? Can wers read minds??? Can he read minds?? Wait...

“What do you mean,” Stiles lowered his voice and pouted his lips, “ ’they don’t have to’?” The sheriff choked on a cup of coffee behind them. Wer-Human etiquette was taught to students annually since kindergarten. Stiles knew better. Derek’s patience was running thin. 

Derek’s eyes turned red. “I’m saying that I did not give you the bite. That you are an omega and have no territory to claim on state documents and no alpha to present you to humans in the Ascension or pack to attend your debut. I’m saying that I came here today to offer you Asylum by extending an invitation to join the Hale Pack but that mouth of yours is giving me pause.”

Stiles began to cower under Derek’s red glow. Then Derek relaxed. He released his hold on the glare, allowing his eyes to revert to their natural hazel. 

“I’m saying that if I became your alpha then I wouldn’t push you to do anything your not ready for.” Derek softened. “I’m offering to claim you. If you pledge yourself to me than no human nor Wer would dear to question a member of the Hale pack. I’m saying that it’s nobody’s business. The rest is just formalities.”

Stiles blinked a couple times at the table. His eyes downturned in thought. He nervously licked his lips. 

“How?”

Stiles turned to face Derek. Though scared, he thought it important to look him in the eye.

“How do I become a member of your pack?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got any constructive criticism? Confusion? Praise? COMMENT BELOW <3


	3. Prey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What do I need to do to become pack?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all the trooper who made it this far, bless you're heart. The last chapter was a bit rough grammatically.... among other things. When I have the time and energy, I'll update it. The chapter's short but I had a burst of inspiration and wanted to get back to this fic!!!

'It's the hunters moon. You'll need to make an offering. Catch it and kill it off territory. '

Stiles looked at the tiny thing. Struggling in it's grave. The mouse trap had missed it's body entirely and only Caught it by the tail. The tip of which began paled as it rose, kinked in an unhealthy angle. 

Was this what he looked like last night? Was this what the alpha saw as he leaned over his prone body? His arms must've hung disturbingly chillingly wrong, in the same way. The world began to tilt off it's axis. Just like it did when he was told his mother was finally dead. 

It's squeaking frantic and high. Was it pain? Was it fear? Was it begging, wishing it was warm in it's den? Shaking he dislodged the furry innocent. Wondering if it was was running into the maw of some terror just out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments to get get me through the next chapter. I jut want to rush to the scenes I've already written. 😫
> 
>  
> 
> Seriously comments and kudos water my soul.

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure where it’s going exactly yet. I have some flashes.


End file.
